


discard their little suns

by TolkienGirl



Series: All That Glitters Gold Rush!AU: The Full Series [166]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Children unable to process Bad Stuff...of which there is always heaps, Frog POV, Gen, Grief, Post-Chapter 21 of WTHC, To say that Gwindor is having...the worst day..., creepiness, is an understatement, title from a poem by Claire Schwartz
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-20
Updated: 2019-12-20
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:54:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21868585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TolkienGirl/pseuds/TolkienGirl
Summary: Do you want him to die as well?
Relationships: Amlach & Maedhros | Maitimo, Amlach & Original Female Character(s), Gwindor & Maedhros | Maitimo
Series: All That Glitters Gold Rush!AU: The Full Series [166]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1300685
Comments: 2
Kudos: 23





	discard their little suns

_Do you want him to die as well?_

The ground is a hard snake, wriggling in endless curves. Frog is a snake, also, nosing into the chalky earth, chewing on the dry tufts of grass. His teeth hurt. He bit the Soldier hard and the Soldier jerked away. Frog’s mouth was tugged so fiercely that all his little bones rattled.

_You killed him you killed Russandol you fucking traitor let me go let me go_

Sticks, screaming, is a river. Snakes do not like rivers because they do not have arms or legs to swim. The water fills up their blunt noses (which may not even be noses, properly) and their gaping mouths, and then what will the snakes do?

Frog curls away from the river that is Sticks.

 _He’s gone_ , says the Soldier. The Soldier is not good, not kind. He is crying even before his tears come out. Frog’s teeth pinch inside his head. _He’s gone, Sticks, can’t you see, he wanted me to take both of you brats and—_

_Can’t_

_You_

_See_

The Eyes were _all_ Frog could see, in the soupy dark. He was not allowed out in the day, before. Sticks said _that sun’ll dry you up, Frog_ , and Belle said, _must keep quiet and safe, darling_. Russandol said nothing, but his hands were warm and his heart was fast.

The Eyes did not speak to Frog. The Eyes did not come too close. They did not need to. Frog squeezed his own shut, and when he opened them again, the Eyes were gone.

_Sticks, I’m asking you, I’m begging you. He’ll come back for the little critter. D’you want that?_

_I want Russandol_ , Sticks sobs, and she throws herself at the Soldier in a great splash, with her arms around her face.

 _Jesus,_ the Soldier says holding Sticks back and holding Sticks up. _Jesus._

The Eyes were there, and the Eyes were a mouth, smooth and ready like a snake’s. Frog did not know that Eyes could become that. The Eyes ate Russandol up. They ate him until everything was dark, and Frog wanted to look at the grass like a snake would, if a snake was still safe. He likes the grass, though it is dead. He can puff air out through his teeth, in between the teeth of the ground.

But—

 _Git up._ Sticks’ face is the river now: mud, wetness, eyes like stones.

Frog doesn’t want eyes. He doesn’t want a mouth, either, so he opens his own and

_screams_

when the Soldier touches him.

 _He’ll walk_ , Sticks says, sharp and overhead.

_Will you walk on your own feet, very soft, and not make a sound except when I tell you to? I promise it will be better that way._

(Did the Eyes-that-were-a-Mouth hurt Russandol?)

(Russandol had a smile, before the Eyes swallowed. Frog doesn’t think it was for himself.)

_You have to be a cano_ , Sticks pleads. Her voice is gone all funny and wrong. Frog can’t laugh. Can’t say,

 _Your voice is funny_. He never says that many words at once. They live inside him, the words. The smile, maybe, lived inside Russandol.

Frog pushes his arms and legs out of the ground-snake. When he looks at the sky, the Soldier is busy filling it. He is all grey and river-wet as well. His trousers are stuck to his legs and his pain is stuck to his face.

“Come on then,” says the Soldier.

“No more biting,” says Sticks. “I mean it, I do.”

Frog knows the Eyes will not come back for them. They are no longer hungry.


End file.
